


Repressed Escape

by maraudersgirl47



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Carol knows what's up, Daryl is kinda dense, First Kiss, Fluff, Grumpy Daryl, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of canon typical violence, Mentions of past abuse, Rick is kinda hopeless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 04:13:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4732466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersgirl47/pseuds/maraudersgirl47
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The prison was stifling and not for necessarily the obvious reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The prison was stifling and not for necessarily the obvious reasons.

The heat could have been a factor – traditional Georgian temperature kicking in seeming worse than what it used to. People – more than there had been only a few weeks ago, not enough to crowd but certainly enough to make a difference. Noise – again, nothing compared to what the world used to induce but more than what they’d all become acclimatised with.

No, it was Rick’s constant hovering that seemed to have Daryl itching for an escape. The persistent man didn’t seem capable of leaving Daryl alone and there was only so much the hunter could take on a day-to-day basis.

If only he could make his way beyond the fences, just him and his crossbow for a few hours, out amongst the trees, no-one to bother him except the scarce wildlife that still wandered these parts and possibly a stray walker or two.

Okay, so if he was being honest with himself – and reluctantly it was kind of his only option at the moment – there were a few good reasons why a) he wasn’t allowed out and b) Rick was trailing him around whenever he managed to move from one spot to the next.

He’d been on a hunt two days before, nothing out of the ordinary or extreme, just looking for something that would maybe feed them for a day or two when he’d had a bit of an accident. An accident that might have led to him all but dragging his ass back to the prison, blood splattered and incoherent much later than anyone was expecting to the worry of his not so patiently waiting friends.

Hershel had managed to patch him up – after Rick ensuring that he wasn’t fatally injured, which apparently was more of a breakdown on the other man’s behalf than anything else – none of which Daryl remembered but Carol had explained to him in explicit detail with a wry grin around her mouth that she seemed to be wearing more often than not lately.

Even with Hershel’s help Daryl was restricted to moving around with the old crutches they still had lying around, since his ankle was close to broken with how badly he’d twisted it. His ribs were bruised (possibly one or two were broken, but he was determined to play down that pain as much as possible) and there were sizable gashes on both his left forearm and the top of his thigh that had required stitches and would probably take more than a few weeks to heal properly.

He would have been in a foul enough mood just because everyone had divided up his responsibilities between themselves, as all he was allowed to do was ‘rest’ for the foreseeable future, but then Grimes seemed to have the need to find him every damn chance the man got to make sure he didn’t forget how useless he currently was.

He’d complained about this very fact to Carol earlier that day, he was sure it was the pain meds Hershel was insisting he still take that got him talking in the first place, and his temper rose once again when the woman rolled her eyes at him insisting that she was relatively sure that wasn’t what Rick’s intentions were at all.

That was why he’d suffered through the pain (and really he’d had worse, he didn’t know why everyone seemed so determined to make such a fuss over a few scrapes and bruises) and dragged himself up the wiry stairwell that led to the roof over the back cellblocks.

If they were all so determined to make him sit around being useless, he was at least going to do so in peace.

He sat himself down, back against one of the raised chunks of wall that used to house some kind of radio tower, a spot he’d taken to in the recent weeks. It was shielded away from prying eyes without stealing his vantage point of the forest line – standing he could even see their front gates if he needed. He placed the crutches beside him; stretching his legs out, glaring at his currently inept foot and its twinge of pain as if this was all his appendages fault instead of his.

He’d been distracted on his hunt.

One of the first things Daryl had learnt when he was taught how to track was that his sole focus should be on the task at hand – not back at home with his drunken father, not to his brother and whatever cop he might currently be mouthing off to, and in his current case, not back to the prison where Rick Grimes seemed thoroughly determined to tantalize him every way imaginable.

Now Daryl wasn’t blaming Rick, as far as he could tell the older man knew nothing of the effect he had on him, but Daryl had realised belatedly in the last few weeks that he was well and truly head over heals for the other man.

Daryl dropped his head back against the concrete behind him with a low groan – once again concerned with how much he sounded like a love-struck teenager, even in his own mind.

It wasn’t the first time he’d ever been attracted to a guy before, Daryl had learnt long ago that what the people who raised him deemed as ‘normal sexual behaviour’ came nowhere near to any kind of suitable category for him. It was maybe the first time that he’d ever been attracted to a guy without the fear of being physically punished for the sentiment tacked along with it.

He was still afraid, something in him tried to reason that it was irrationally so, but he was fearful all the same. He’d probably be shunned. Lusting after the leader of their rag-tag group of survivors probably wasn’t highly redeemable on anybody’s list.

Looking at Rick Grimes and thinking the man was a damn good sight wasn’t a new affirmation – anybody’d have to be blind not to see the obvious. Daryl logically knew that his feelings of ‘more’ didn’t just develop over night either – it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t realise what that tiny jolt in his stomach and flutter in his heart rate meant until it was too late.

The man was his best friend, a stronger relationship than he’d had with anybody (‘cept maybe Merle and that had been strained more often than not), and he was Rick’s second in command at the man’s unspoken command. Daryl trusted him with his life, knew that sentiment was returned possibly with an even stronger inflection since Daryl knew Rick trusted him with his children’s lives as well.

Daryl would do nothing to ruin the relationship – trust, loyalty or otherwise – between him and Rick. But lately his damn dick seemed determined to give it a good fuckin’ effort.

He doubted it was because he hadn’t had sex in awhile (considering he never found the common need for it before the world went to hell) maybe it was just due to long-term exposure? After being around Rick for so long his body had finally just given up on ignoring basic physical urges. Or maybe it was a change in Rick’s behaviour instead of his; the man did seem to be seeking him out more often, and with increasingly less viable reasons. Reasons to spend time with him or have him near gradually sounding less like reasons and more like excuses.

Daryl huffed to himself; maybe he _should_ be blaming Rick for all of this.

Daryl startled when he heard a crunch of stone against the roof too close behind him. He reached for a crutch instinctively to use as a makeshift weapon before relaxing at the sound of a familiar hum.

“And just when I thought you were an impossible man to sneak up on.”

“Damn lucky I didn’t have my crossbow Grimes,” Daryl snapped back, turning the minimal amount he needed to glare over his shoulder at the approaching man.

Rick laughed softly, easily dropping to sit on the empty patch of concrete beside him, “Carol told me you might be up here.”

Daryl grunted in annoyed recognition.

“Hiding from me,” Rick added.

He glanced to the man beside him, furtive grin obvious around Rick’s mouth as he caught Daryl’s eye.

“Not hidin’,” Daryl mumbled in denial.

“Course you’re not.”

Daryl changed tacts when Rick didn’t attempt to hide his disbelief, “Wouldn’t need hidin’ if ya’d leave me alone for more than thirty minutes.”

Rick dropped his gaze to his fingers curled in his lap as if he was almost apologetic. Almost. “Someone needs to make sure you’re not doing yourself anymore damage.”

“Ya think I did this on purpose?”

“I think you’re stubborn enough to try and do more than you can before your body is physically ready for it.”

Daryl ignored him and the logic that was probably based in some fairly strong truth.

Rick relaxed further beside him, kicking his legs out in an imitation of Daryl’s own position, hands coming up to rest behind his head. “I can see why you like it out here. It’s quiet.”

“Was till you showed up,” Daryl grumbled.

He ignored the twinge of guilt he felt when Rick’s brow furrowed in concern, “You mad at me Daryl?”

“Don’t need ya hoverin’ ‘round remindin’ me how useless I currently am Grimes.”

Rick raised his eyebrows at him, “You think that’s what I’m doing?”

Daryl shrugged, glaring out towards the treetops instead of the man beside him, “What else would ya be doin’?”

“Maybe making sure you’re actually okay, you stubborn moron.”

Daryl flicked his glare back to him when the man dared to chuckle softly. “’M fine Grimes, lot of worryin’ for nothin’, the lot of ya.”

Silence seeped between them. As annoyed as Daryl felt he should be with the other man he couldn’t quite maintain the inflection, feeling his grip on the notion slipping further and further away with every beat. It was being replaced with traitorous thoughts of how close Rick was beside him, the heat he could feel radiating from the shoulder almost brushing his, the dirt he could see still staining Rick’s hands obvious evidence that he’d been down in his garden.

Distractions. This was a prime example of how all his problems seemed to begin.

When Rick spoke again, Daryl was surprised at the level of seriousness his tone had dropped to, he flicked his eyes back across to try and find his gaze immediately.

“You’re not allowed to scare me like that.”

Daryl opened his mouth to respond but came up short, words failing him as Rick turned to meet him, blue gaze radiating nothing but sincerity in the moment.

“I fuckin’ panicked Daryl. I shouldn’t have. I’m not supposed to. Especially in front of everyone. But you weren’t meant to be that long, you’re never that long unless you specifically plan to be. Then you stumbled through looking like you were already dead – last time I saw you like that was back at the farm – and going through the thought of losing you again… I keep having moments when I think I’m going to wake up and realise you didn’t actually make it back. That we’d lost you and there was nothing I could do about it. You can’t leave me here, I can’t do this by myself.”

Daryl’s jaw clicked shut, words of discourage and phrases of ‘you’d be fine without me, ya got the others’ falling to silence; he couldn’t do anything but nod. Even if it were a promise that couldn’t be reasonably made in the world they lived in, he’d still make it to the man pleading before him.

“Can’t get rid o’ me that easily,” Daryl muttered. He couldn’t help but smile in response when Rick’s own lips pulled up.

The relief was a visible wave through Rick, his shoulders relaxing as he tilted his head onto Daryl’s shoulder as if suddenly exhausted and planning to take a nap right there.

Daryl enjoyed the weight of him leaning into his side, his own head instinctively tilting to rest against Rick’s. Daryl flinched in surprise when one of Rick’s hands curled on top of his own; he didn’t pull away, allowing Rick’s fingers to twine between his.

“Rick?” He asked questioningly, voice almost shaky in his hesitance

Rick moved, turning to look at him once again, his gaze warm as Daryl watched him wide eyed and questioning. “And people say I’m the one always slow on the uptake.”

Daryl had every chance and no chance at all to move away before Rick’s lips were grazing against his. Either way, he wouldn’t have wanted to move from the contact for anything.

It was soft, chaste. Rick’s mouth against his warm and solid. One press. Two. Daryl responded beneath him instinctively, easily, breathing against him as if they’d been this close for years. Rick’s grip on his fingers tightened and Daryl returned the pressure.

It wasn’t long, but it was enough. Rick pulled back the same way he’d started; with confidence. His grin was wide and infectious, eyes the brightest Daryl could remember seeing them in a long time.

Rick got to his feet, dusting the back of his pants off as he went. He was walking away towards the door in the roof, head turned back over his shoulder, “You ready to come inside yet Dixon?”

Daryl wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened, it might have even been a vivid daydream induced by pain-meds, but he was as sure as hell gonna haul his ass up, follow Rick and go find the fuck out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my first published Walking Dead fic so please tell me if it's too terrible?  
> I've been working on a longer au with a Rickyl relationship at the heart of it but have reached a bit of a stalemate - figured writing something random might help, so this was just a bit of fun... kind of tempted to continue it now... that's never good. Uh well, who knows!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter - again, this is more just a random piece of writing to keep me entertained than an actual story. It's basically just a bunch of fluff. Thank you again to everyone who commented/kudos'd on the first chapter - you're all awesome :)

Rick trotted down the stairs that led from the roof and he couldn’t help the swell feeling of smugness that filled him as he went. He’d done it. Said no to fuckin’ standards and expectations (if there were any left in the world) and done the very thing he’d wanted to do for months.

Kissed Daryl Dixon.

Up until two days ago he’d convinced himself that having Daryl there, best friend in arms, right hand man, was more than enough for him to live with happily. When Daryl hadn’t returned from his hunt well past the scheduled time something that was very fragile within Rick had broken – he’d decided well before Daryl fell into his arms beaten and bloody that when Daryl finally returned (he was still too stubborn to believe he’d lost him for good, even racked with fear as he was) he was staking his claim, propriety and responsibilities be damned.

Life was now too damn short and precious to worry about such things.

Rick was quite happy replaying his recent moment of triumph over once again in his mind until he heard an “Ow, shit,” distinctly from behind him. Turning to look over his shoulder he saw Daryl attempting, and albeit failing, to haul himself back down the stairs without causing himself severe damage.

Rick refrained from rolling his eyes at the younger mans stubbornness that he knew could rival his own – seriously, he was twenty feet away and Daryl couldn’t call for help? Rick quickly took the stairs back up two at a time, reaching Daryl’s side with ease.

“You know I was impressed you managed to climb up here in the first place.”

“No need ta gloat ‘bout it, ‘m all stiff from sittin’ up there. Jus’ help me down would ya?”

Daryl hadn’t even finished talking before Rick was plucking one of the crutches out of Daryl’s grip and replacing the strut with himself, taking Daryl’s weight and dragging his arm around the back of his shoulders. It was easy going the moment Daryl acknowledged that Rick could easily support him and stopped fighting him on it.

They came to a pause at the base of the stairs, dark and dingy prison corridor with only a couple of skylights allowing the dimming afternoon sunlight to reach them. Rick handed Daryl back the second crutch as he looped out from under his arm, ignoring the pang he received at the loss of contact.

Daryl was staring at him almost shyly around the length of his hair, he seemed out of breath and it was that which indicated how much pain he was probably still in. “Hi,” Daryl muttered. Even in the minimal light Rick could see Daryl’s cheeks flush red at the somewhat lame remark.

Rick couldn’t help but grin in response, leaning back into Daryl’s space and pressing his mouth back to his determinedly.

If Daryl was surprised by the action he hid it well, meeting Rick’s lips as if that was exactly what he wanted from the moment.

At first it was barely more than what they’d shared a few minutes prior out in the fresh air. Rick was content to just breathe against the younger man, lips a soft reassuring pressure against his own. It was doing well as a solid confirmation that this was real – he hadn’t lost Daryl, he wasn’t going to.

Daryl was the one who seemed to decide he was done with the naïve sense of chaste; parting his lips underneath Rick’s. Rick didn’t hesitate to follow the response.

He kissed him deeper, meeting Daryl’s tongue when it flicked out to find his, a hand coming up to tangle in the back of his hair to hold the hunter close. Rick was loosing himself in it, his senses overcome with nothing but Daryl, the ease of him responding beneath him, the press of the length of his body as Rick subconsciously stepped closer into his space –

Rick was snapped out of his increasing stupor at the sound of a loud clatter. Daryl had dropped one of his crutches seemingly in his efforts to haul himself closer to Rick – the younger man wobbled, suddenly unbalanced without the extra support and Rick immediately grabbed his shoulders to steady him.

“Easy there,” Rick murmured, trying not to grin like a loon at how obvious it was Daryl was affected by him as much as he was by Daryl. Rick stooped to snatch up Daryl’s fallen help, when he re-met the hunter’s gaze the man’s features had turned sour. “You’re entirely over these things aren’t you.” Rick stated as he pressed the support back into Daryl’s grasp.

Daryl huffed, “Ya got no idea.”

Rick leaned to press a quick closed mouth kiss to Daryl’s lips before turning to lead them down the corridor, supportive hand hovering at the base of Daryl’s back, as they headed in the direction of their cellblock.

“I remember when I had to use crutches once. I’d decided I wanted to learn how to ride a motorcycle, and since my parents didn’t want to hear about it, I asked one of the guys I knew from school to teach me. He was a bit of a moron and I was trying to be a bit too much of a hero.”

Daryl snorted softly beside him, expression filled with belief at Rick’s young stupidity as he continued.

“Came off almost the minute I got on, didn’t I? Apparently only breaking my leg was one of the best-case scenarios. My parents were furious and I had to hobble around on these things for weeks. Motorbike enthusiasm extinguished.”

“How old were ya?” Daryl sounded amused, passive look behind his eyes as if he was imagining a Rick young enough and thick enough to fail at something that was probably already second nature to Daryl when he’d been the same age.

Rick sighed, “Old enough that I should have known better.”

Rick walked with Daryl right to the cell the younger man had claimed as his own, following him inside and ensuring Daryl lowered himself down onto the bed with intentions of staying put. “Ya gonna stand guard and make sure ‘m gettin’ all my rest and recuperation now Grimes?”

Rick grinned at him, even as he saw the flicker behind Daryl’s gaze as he moved to try and make himself more comfortable. He was still in pain, trying to mask it with his distractions of sarcasm.

“Na I trust you. Besides, got another watch shift to go take care of.” Rick wasn’t sure the mask of disappointment crossing Daryl’s features was real or his own desire reflected. “I’ll be coming to check in on you later though.”

“Ya gonna make it an entire watch shift without trackin’ me down?” Daryl asked with a lilt to his tone, he was almost teasing.

“Probably not,” Rick said honestly, turning to leave the man to hopefully get some much needed rest.

“Hey Rick,” Daryl’s voice stopped him before he was even two paces closer to the strung up curtain they all used for the illusion of privacy. Rick complied without hesitance when Daryl beckoned him closer.

Daryl reached for his hand as soon as he was within reach, tugging him down and closer and leaning up towards Rick. “Ya forgo’ somethin’.”

Rick was grinning wide when Daryl’s lips met his again – it probably made for an awkward kiss but it wasn’t important.

Daryl dropped back down against his mattress once he was seemingly satisfied, wry smile lingering around his own mouth as he watched Rick closely. “Get goin’ now, ya gonna be late.”

Rick chuckled softly, “Tease,” he mumbled into the space between them.

Rick left Daryl’s cell with what he knew to be a sappy grin on his face, leaving the hunter behind him who looked like he might have already passed out from exhaustion.

Rick walked through the cellblock and out to the main guard tower, he took the stairs easily, striding through the open door to find Maggie sitting with her feet dangling over one of the ledges, eyes trained out on the trees as her legs swung beneath her.

She smiled at the sight of him, pushing herself to her feet and handing over the rifle she’d been cradling, “It’s all yours.”

“Anything interesting?” He asked before dropping into a very similar position as the one she’d just vacated.

“Nothing even boring to report.”

Rick chuckled at her retreating form as she left him to what would no doubt be his few hours of silence.

He watched as a light wind rippled over the tops of the trees out in the distance, saw the growing vegetables down in their little garden affected the same. There were a couple of the younger boys down the front on the grassy patch that wasn’t taken up with livestock or vegetation. They had a football, their shouts of joy echoing up to him as they kicked it back and forth to one another. Carl was amongst them and Rick couldn’t help but grin.

There wasn’t necessarily always something to be happy about with the world they’d been thrown into. Currently Rick actually had a list; it was a momentous occasion, one that he planned to cherish greatly.

His two children had a roof over their heads, food stocks that would last them for the foreseeable future and his son was currently running around with people close to his own age actually enjoying himself for once.

The same went for the rest of his extended family, they were secure (Rick still couldn’t chance the word ‘safe’) enough here with the prisons strong walls and high fences, they had water, food, more of which was becoming accessible the longer they stayed.  
They managed to fix the weaknesses in a lot of the fences and everyone was starting to actually develop regular sleep patterns again. Even Judith was starting to slip into them, surrounded by people who loved and cherished her who were more than willing to help out whenever they could.

Daryl had kissed him back and – yeah, that was kind of a big one at the moment. Enough to make Rick pause and breathe deep, savouring the air in his lungs that meant he was alive and here to relish in the memory. Daryl had kissed him back.

Reasonably (with hope) Rick had thought his attraction to Daryl hadn’t been one sided. It had been a long time since he’d started trusting the man, he couldn’t remember when the dynamic between them had truly changed from Daryl being someone who was exceedingly helpful to someone who Rick couldn’t lead without. Someone he needed more than just another number to add to their strength. It had been a long time since Rick had seen him as that – he sometimes wondered if there was even a time when it was just that. Maybe Daryl had always been more; Rick just hadn’t realised it back then.

It had been more recently when Rick’s thoughts had turned from understanding need to unexplainable want. He’d started daydreaming about the other man and quickly realised they were more like fantasies. Ones that started innocent enough with imagined conversations and barely there contact but soon progressed to urgent fucks and Rick waking hard in his pants with Daryl’s name falling from his lips.

Enough had been enough. Action had to be taken. And even as confident as he was that his feelings may have been returned Rick was still slightly surprised that he’d managed to lock lips with Daryl (more than once, he was quite pleased to recognize) without copping a severe punch to the face.

He had it down as a possible instinctual reaction on the other mans behalf – _really_ glad that he’d been wrong.

Even so, Rick had braced himself for far more persuasion than what it seemed he was going to need. Daryl had all but welcomed him, seeking Rick out just as eagerly only after the first initial hurdle. Teasing even, in his attempt to get more from Rick.

Rick was grinning against the rail he was leaning against. Apparently being with Daryl was going to be as simple as everything else between them – effortless, instinctual. Rick hoped he and Daryl remained on the same wavelength they currently seemed to be sharing as he wasn’t certain he’d be able to go back to not being in Daryl’s company every spare chance he got.

Rick’s time up in the guard tower passed slowly. He watched as the sun slowly began to drop lower and lower, a few clouds shadowing their way across the sky as dusk fell around him. The kids went inside when they were called for food, the silence around him then remaining unbroken but by the distant rustling of leaves and the few birds that were flitting in and out of them.

Rick’s stomach was starting to grumble for food by the time Michonne came to relieve him. She wasn’t smiling when she strode through the door, but she had a pleased air to her that had Rick squinting at her in question.

“Carol says food’s ready for you and Daryl when you go in,” she told him, taking a seat in the actual chair they had up there instead of on the ground beside him.

“Thanks,” Rick said, hoisting himself to his feet, feeling the stiffness in his legs even though he’d walked around a few times while being up there.

“So you and Daryl finally got a clue, huh?” Michonne was grinning at him now, especially as he attempted to splutter out a response.

“Wha – how do you even – I’ve been up here all day,” Rick stated fairly.

Michonne countered, “You’ve been up here most of the day. Carol filled me in.”

“How does _she_ -?"

“We’re not as dense as you Rick,” Michonne told him pointedly.

Rick wandered to the door, muttering under his breath about psychic woman as he went.

“I’d make a crack about using protection, but I ‘spose it doesn’t really matter these days?”

Rick was tempted to throw a rude hand gesture in her direction before leaving her behind to her continued laughter. He knew if Daryl was beside him the hunter definitely would have flipped her off but he was more annoyed that he was apparently so damn easy to read than anything she’d actually said.

Rick found Carol waiting for him with two bowls of stew and Judith in her arms. He was grateful enough that he ignored the smug look she seemed to be wearing similar to Michonne’s. “He stayed put for the rest of the day as far as I know.”

Rick nodded in recognition. Pleased that Daryl had finally given up on dragging himself around to different places of the prison trying to hide from there concerned eyes.

He extended his arms to take his baby girl from Carol, grinning as the little one turned to him in recognition and easily made it obvious that she wanted to be in his grasp. He tucked her onto his hip, and with Carol’s help managed to balance both bowls in the crook of his other arm. He nodded to her in thanks before striding off towards the cellblock.

Rick was mindlessly talking to Judy as he walked, her cooing back to him as if she understood his every rambling word.

Rick walked into Daryl’s cell cautiously; in case the hunter was asleep he didn’t want to disturb him. He needn’t have worried, Daryl had himself propped up against the wall his bunk backed onto, book open in his lap that he immediately tossed aside as Rick came into sight.

Daryl reached out his hands and Rick went to pass him a bowl of food. Daryl rolled his eyes, “Na, give me her.”

Rick chuckled softly as he lifted a now squirming Judith off his hip and over to Daryl, she positioned herself in his lap quite happily, reaching to pinch her chubby hands at the base of his jaw ensuring she had the entirety of his attention.

Rick placed Daryl’s bowl of stew on the bed beside him, near enough so he could reach for it when he was ready but hopefully out of harms way as Judy continued to wriggle around.

Before he could pull back to take a seat, Daryl grabbed his arm, tugging him over and pressing his lips to the corner of his mouth. Rick grinned once he was released, eyebrow raised questioningly as he decided to sit on the mattress next to Daryl instead of in the old office chair on the other side of the cell.

“Jus’ ‘case you were havin’ any second thoughts.”

“Bout what?” Rick smirked, till Daryl punched him in the shoulder not so lightly before he reached for his food.

“Ass,” Daryl told him easily. “Watch shift?”

“Same as it’s normally been lately,” Rick said around a mouthful, his stomach giving a rumbling of approval as he finally began to satisfy it.

“Don’ get why you lot wouldn’ at least let me keep my shifts.”

Rick refrained from rolling his eyes at the continued grumbling, “Your body needs _rest_ Daryl.”

“Spose that means ‘m not gonna be able ta convince ya to fuck me tonight?”

Rick ignored the feeling of his cheeks growing warm, the hunter seeming quite serious with his blaze´ comment. Judith was giggling in his lap as if she knew exactly what his words had meant. Daryl handed her a bit of meat still in the bottom of his bowl and she sucked the juicy square happily.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Rick mumbled, leaning to press a quick kiss to the side of Daryl’s cheek.

Daryl grabbed at his jaw before Rick could retreat, turning his head so he could seal their lips properly, “I’ll be holdin’ ya to that Grimes.”

Rick snorted into Daryl’s mouth, images already flicking in his minds eye of Daryl pinned down beneath him begging for more.

His soft laughter dissolved quickly into a moan as Daryl flicked his tongue along side his own, seeking more.

“Keep that up and it might be tonight after all.”

Daryl was smirking before his mouth met Rick’s again, spare hand coming up to thread through the curls at the nape of his neck. Intentions of convincing Rick that he was perfectly capable of strenuous activities shining clear in his eyes.

Judith rolled off Daryl’s lap onto the soft mattress beneath her, poking and prodding at Daryl’s pillow for entertainment, as she clearly knew she wasn’t getting attention from the two men distracted above her.


End file.
